But our heatwave just broke;
the Frisco fog is back.
Our body-taboos may be a bore,
but they'll need insulation here
in the interglacial past.

So I rummage my closet, toss a storm
of hats and sweaters and shirts
big enough to be ponchos, dresses
on these Munchkin flirts

I avalanche-bury the trio in warm,
Then seeing my overhelpfulnesses,
Wake bewildered. Dawn.

DREAM NOTES

1: BARBERRY

Tall wooden house: from Meg Cabot's Avalon High, an Arthurian legend set in a modern high school. Arthur lives in such a house. A lonely place for him: stiff father, mom with secrets, mean half-brother Mordred...

Barberry/Oregongrape: a West Coast shrub with hollylike leaves and edible oval indigo berries half an inch long. I saw a showy relative of it in the Japanese Tea Garden today. Oversize berries, but not dream-big.

2: TINY SCIENTISTS

Time-travel, Alder: today Alder read my transcription of her dream Amplifier, on the World Dream Bank. She said "I don't remember it like that!" I felt guilty--baaad editor! So I checked my original notes of what she told me nine years ago, and there it all was. You're the authority on your dream when you dream it, but naked memory's unreliable over years. Write 'em down!

Tiny naked blondes:Avalon High again. The narrator catches Guinevere, a little blonde cheerleader, in bed with Lance. The scene spoke to me, as I'm still healing from a love triangle that exploded due to jealousy.

Three scientists unsure. Met no triplets today; none in Avalon High. Maybe literal? Ms Right will work in a lab and have two sisters? Who knows?

From the future: maybe just a hint she's from MY future, someone I haven't met yet. Or...

Eloi: in The Time Machine by H.G. Wells, the Eloi are the childlike descendants of the English leisure class. But in "The Truth About Weena", David Lake's wonderful answer to Wells, Weena the supposedly simpleminded Eloi who the Time Traveler tries to save travels back to Victorian England, rightly finds it sexist and savage, and sets about building an Eloitopia...

Comfortable nude: the future will be hot. Maybe sexually; for sure climatically. Welcome to the greenhouse!

Munchkins: meter-high natives of eastern Oz in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. I exaggerated, though--the three weren't that small.

In our pre-greenhouse climate you need clothes: well, it could be deeply symbolic about armor and self-disclosure and all that. But, see...

Hot today! I biked in gauzy shirt and pants
to Golden Gate Park. The fog cat-danced
and pounced. I shivered and rode back:
all my coats were home on the rack!
I grew up here; I do know better.
In San Francisco, carry that sweater.

3: BOTH

So what's it all mean? Well, both these dreams are of odd-sized materializations. And the previous night I dreamed I should email a total stranger--it described and even named her. But I didn't try to find her, let alone email her. Google-shy! So I think these twin dreams are saying "Hey, we come up with miracles, so don't just write 'em down--ACT on our tips!"